53rd Regiment
by flacedice
Summary: When Doumeki is sent to his new post, he finds that the situation is rather different from what he was led to believe.


AN: LOL. I'd pretty much forgotten about this one until I wrote Frozen Sanctuary (see Seasonal Watanukis). But it's actually quite fun. Well, here you go. The start of events that will eventually lead to the predicament that soldier!Doumeki and sorcerer!Watanuki find themselves in.

53rd Regiment

The soldier eyed the tent speculatively. It was army issue, a tough canvas used to resist dirt and survive rough handling in the field. And it was a faded dark blue.

That someone had bothered to dye a tent at all when it would likely be coated with dirt, blood and even random fragments of human flesh before the campaign was over was interesting of itself. And even more so since the crest blazoned in faded black and white on the tent flap suggested that it's owner was his new partner.

He wondered if this assignment would be as boring as the last one. At least the promotion meant he was going to get some better meals. Food quality was very important on the battlefield and was a special concern to Doumeki.

He pulled the cord (dyed blue to match the tent) attached to the door flap. There was a sweet tinkling sound as a set of chimes inside the tent was disturbed.

"Wait a minute!" The voice was harried and filled with irritation.

Doumeki waited a minute then pulled the cord again.

"Oh, for-" Something was set down with a clank. A few moments later the tent flap was flung open and Doumeki just barely avoided getting the weighted end in his face. "What do you want?"

Doumeki found himself unable to take his eyes off the sudden apparition that stood before him. Wisps of black hair escaped the white handkerchief that was tied over the man's head. With the sleeves of his white shirt rolled up to his elbows and the patched black pants, the man looked like he'd been interrupted in the midst of spring cleaning. He certainly didn't match the description of the man he had been sent to meet.

"Are you the sorcerer of the 53rd regiment?" He asked. It was said doubtfully but Doumeki didn't think the other man would pick up on the tone. Not many people could differentiate the soldier's slight shifts of emotion

But comprehension and pity filled the dark blue eyes that peered out at him from under straying bangs. "You'd best come in, then." The strange man disappeared into the dark confines of the tent.

Doumeki considered for a moment then followed. Lifting the tent flap aside enough to gain access, he slipped into the tent.

The interior of the tent was still a surprise after the eccentricity of the exterior. Thick rugs lay on the ground, covering the dry soil and half-dead grass that was typical of the valley in which the regiment was camped. While they were unusually clean, the slightly faded patterns suggested that they had seen years of use. A number of worn travel bags sat along a wall with a bundle of rolled up bedding. Only the fire place and the pot hung over it filled the empty space. That and the cushions laid out around it on the rugs.

"Stop!"

Doumeki froze at the sharp word.

The sorcerer (for it was now clear that this eccentric individual _was_ the person he sought) stood up from where he was taking another plate from his bags. He gestured to the rug in front of the soldier's feet.

Doumeki peered down. In the dimness of the of the tent's interior, he could only just make out the trip-step that had been formed in the carpet underfoot.

"Can't be too careful," the sorcerer commented, sitting down next to the fire. He patted a large rock set next to the fireplace. It was just large enough to cave in someone's skull once they were down. Doumeki suspected that there would be bloodstains if he got a better look at it.

Or maybe not. The sorcerer struck him as the fastidious sort who'd clean his weapons after he used them.

Doumeki carefully stepped over the trip-step and moved more warily to the fire.

"Here." As soon as he was close enough, a plate was thrust at him.

Doumeki took it as he sank down to sit on one of the pillows like the sorcerer had done. He eyed the brown muck on the plate doubtfully. "Aren't all meals supposed to be provided?" He prodded a disturbing looking lump in the brown sea.

The sorcerer barked a note of bitter laughter. "This is the 53rd regiment. Meals are provided - if you don't mind running to the latrines every few minutes." He noticed Doumeki's lack of enthusiasm. "It tastes better than it looks." He began doling more out from the pot onto his own plate. "Can't have anything that looks too good if you want to keep it." He cast a meaningful look at the other man's weapons as he handed over a spoon.

Doumeki looked at the pot, the sorcerer who seemed to be eating without any ill effect, and dipped the spoon into the mess. It looked even worse when he scooped it up with the utensil and he quickly shovelled into his mouth before he could change his mind.

He blinked at the flavours that hit his tastebuds. How could something looking like _that_, taste like this?

"So," the sorcerer started between neat economical mouthfuls. "What did you do to get yourself landed in the 53rd?"

"Commendation," Doumeki got out between mouthfuls.

"Either someone hates you-" a pause for a look that suggested the sorcerer could see why this was so "or your commander-" He stopped abruptly, eyes narrowing into black and blue slits. "Just who _was_ your commander?"

Doumeki gave a slight shrug. "Kunogi."

"Himawari the War Goddess." The sorcerer's voice was filled with dread that had nothing to do with the ruthless woman's reputation. His voice rose. "Egged on by Yuuko no doubt." The plate held in the sorcerer's slender fingers slid from his grasp and fell into the fire. The sorcerer's pale features flooded with colour and his teeth began grinding as his entire body shook.

Doumeki felt slightly mournful at the loss of the food but watched with interest. He wondered if the other man might suddenly expire from the fit he seemed to be suffering.

He didn't and Doumeki put the fit down to a personal quirk (one of many the sorcerer seemed to have). "Yuuko?" He queried, wondering if the reaction might be repeated.

"My former master," the sorcerer ground out. "Now my training is over, she seems to enjoy tormenting me when she isn't guzzling down a few gallons of wine or destroying entire cities." Despite his words, he seemed to be calming down.

How disappointing.

There was a short silence as sorcerer glared into the fire.

"Why the blue?" A vague gesture to the tent around them.

The sorcerer scowled, using a poker to push the plate out of the fire. "Because the regiment is a bunch of perverts. I don't have the resources to set up lights in each corner and with a white tent they all come around to watch the shadow play." His dark eyes flashed to Doumeki. "Keep them away and I'll cook all your meals."

Doumeki considered the slim man before him, the remnants of the food in his bowl. "Deal."

He watched with interest at the sorcerer finally retrieved the bowl and set it to the side of the fire. As he got up from his cushion to retrieve another bowl, his shirt lifted to show a flash of pale skin.

Doumeki shovelled another spoonful into his mouth and chewed thoughtfully. This might turn out to be interesting.

xXx

And I'm in full agreement with Doumeki there. But I have no idea when more of this will get done. Not for a while, I'm afraid. But when it does it will go up here.


End file.
